Reeling in a giant prehistoric fish for what feels like an hour is not on my exercise rotation, but maybe it should be.
“Are you sure I’m doing this right?” My biceps and traps are on fire.
“You’re almost there,” Jack says.
“Forty pounds,” I say. Even my voice is straining now.
He shrugs. “Maybe eighty.”
“That’s twice what you said before.”
“Hard to tell. Water does weird things to guessing how big a fish is.”
“Are you fucking with me now?”
He doesn’t say anything, but the telltale twitch of his lips practically has me throwing the rod overboard so I can tell him exactly what I think of his sense of humor. It takes two to fuck, so he better be careful what he wishes for. Instead, I manage to twist enough that I can lash out with my foot, nearly connecting with his shin before he dances away at the last minute. His laugh is a big, strong thing that hits me in the gut, and I have to turn back to the rail, not because of the fish I’m now convinced weighs almost as much as I do, but because I’m halfway hard in my jeans, and that’s not something Jack needs to know about.
Unless he wanted to...
But before I can examine that thought too closely, or worse, say something I’ll regret immediately, the rod jumps again in my hand.
“A little help here?”
I lose my grip on the line, and it zings out with a whine. Jack’s on me in a second, gripping the rod and tucking the butt of it under my arm pit.
“Hold on tight.” His voice is close behind me, and I’m torn between leaning into the rail, even though it’s already pressing painfully against my hips, and leaning back against him, even though he hasn’t given me permission to do so.
“I’m okay,” I say, even though I’m breathing hard as I start to bring in the line again.
“You got it?” His hand is on my elbow, and my heart’s beating fast.
The rod bows, and I nod shakily. “Yeah. I’m good.”
“Okay. Just let me know if you need anything.”
God, do I need him. I didn’t know when Roberta said I was being sent away how badly I needed someone like Jack. Someone who would talk to me like a human being. Someone who doesn’t want anything from me. It’s too bad he’d feel differently if he knew who I really was, but for now, I’ll take the break I can get and go back to being Damian when Roberta says the coast is clear.
Oblivious to all of this, Jack’s standing just beyond my shoulder giving careful, patient instructions.
“There you go. Keep the rod out or you’ll snap the line. Take your time. He’ll try to outsmart you.”
“He’s a fish,” I say through gritted teeth.
“He’s basically a dinosaur.” Jack gives me a knowing wink when I glare at him.
Finally, a flash of white appears beneath the surface of the water. Jack whistles softly as he leans over the side to get a better look.
“He’s also a big boy,” he says appreciatively.
“Rockfish?” I ask, throwing my whole body backward to gain some ground as the fish struggles to escape.
“No. Halibut. We don’t usually see them this big so close to shore. Your license won’t let us pull it in.”
“Why not?” I feel like I’ve been through the toughest boot camp of my life. Seriously. Guys trying to bulk up for a shoot should skip the gym and come fishing for a few days.
“We’re only allowed to fish big halibut in designated areas up here, and this isn’t one of them.”
“So this has all been for nothing?” Despite my mounting disappointment, I’m still reeling. The fish is huge, easily four or five feet long. It’s dark green and spotted, and it glares at me with bulbous eyes like it’s really pissed off I’ve interrupted its meal.
